The road that leads to Druhim Vanashta
by Atlantislux
Summary: The Gatchaman characters meet the Flat Earth Universe of Tanith Lee. And Azhrarn will have his gift.


**Disclaimer**: No copyright infringement intended. Gatchaman belongs to Tatsunoko, Azhrarn and the visions of the Flat Earth Universe to Tanith Lee.

**Author Notes**: this is short gothic fairy tale, where the characters of the anime Gatchaman meet those of the Flat Earth Universe of Tanith Lee. I admit I have used a fair amount of poetic licence describing what Lord Azhrarn did to the Galactors. He would have made them Eshva, but I wanted to be even more cruel with Joe, so I made them Vazdru.

**Rating**: M for slash situations, nothing graphic though.

**Beta:** thanks to my love Kevin, who read this story even if he didn't like anime or gothic novels.

**The road that leads to Druhim Vanashta**

The shadow penetrated the basement of the building, and with it six figures slithered inside, hiding among the pillars, melting into the darkness.  
The leader advanced fearlessly, followed by the others.

One, wearing a scarlet jacket, was unmistakably a woman despite the mask that hid her features, and the blond wig. The one by her side, who sniffed the air looking for the faintest trace of blood, wore a costume that transformed him into a sleek but lethal bird of prey, jet-black as the soul that in that body was hosted. They were followed by the last three men, who advanced cautiously, almost hesitantly, dressed in green uniforms, their faces hid by masks that turned them into stylized snakes.

Suddenly, the one leading the group turned towards the door from where they had entered, a slight smile twisting the androgynous features that poked out under his purple mask.

As if brought by a storm wind five other shadows erupted in the room, flying confidently, as the first had not been.

The three men in green were the first to fall, feathered shuriken piercing their throats, one almost beheaded. The crimson woman and the bird of prey fought bravely, but their adversaries outnumbered them. They were as quick as lightning, and as implacable as the divine nemesis. In the end they fell too, felled by a silver sickle, and the deadly rose that the girl had not had the time to launch plunged into their blood, as a final gift from the abyss.

As quickly as they had appeared the feathered shadows vanished, leaving behind only the stench of death.

The being with the purple mask, the only one untouched, wasn't smiling anymore.  
He shook the head instead, sadly, glaring at the dead bodies.

"You had doubts, and I've showed you all that the mortal word gave you. You were seeking glory and honour, and the illusion of a better life. You also wanted love," he said in a whisper, turning towards the corpse of the crimson lady. "You have given your loyalty and your life for free and look what you got back. They handed you to your butchers."

Bending down he picked up the rose, caressing with it his full lips.  
"But I have seen you, I have heard your prayer on the edge of the eternal night and I have answered you."

The voice of the creature changed, from slightly asexual to decisively masculine. It had a deep, velvety timbre.

The mask dissolved around his features, revealing a cascade of hair so black it shimmered midnight blue, framing a pale face, eternally beauty. Azhrarn was his name, Master of Demons, Lord of Druhim Vanashta.

The Demon looked around and the dead bodies arose from the pools of their own blood.  
Shadows covered them and five hooded figures knelt at Azhrarn's feet.  
His smile petrified the moonlight.

"Before my Brother Uhlume, Lord Death, caught them, among the mortal souls I choose those that will be part of my people. Sometimes innocent babies die, others die among the madmen, among betrayed lovers, or still, among those whom life on Earth never turned their dreams into reality."  
Languidly Azhrarn held out a hand that one of the figures took, rising in unison with the others.  
With a caress-like movement Azhrarn pushed away the hood, admiring his diabolic work.  
"Vazdru" he whispered smiling.

And the Vazdru smiled back, a perfect smile in a face that would have charmed the very Gods, if they had not been so indifferent to human suffering. She had gazelle eyes, green like the snakes entangled in her black velvety hair.  
The others revealed their faces too. Amazingly beautiful, as they never were in life. Four girls and one young man, transformed by the whims of Azhrarn.  
The Delusion's Master admired the Demon Prince and Princesses for a long time.  
"I've moulded new looks for you, given you new names, and a new life in death. Gifts freely given and taken, now I am going to ask you one for me."

He conjured the shadows to show the Vazdru a tall and muscular boy, with harsh but not graceless features, and whose stormy blue eyes seemed to challenge the world.  
"The feared Condor, one of your assassins. He is a mortal worthy of me, I claim him as mine."  
"Will he become like us?"  
Azhrarn smiled slightly, turning towards the Princess who had spoken.  
No longer brown and shaggy, her now scarlet hair licked like flames across the complicated black dress; caressing her face Azhrarn sank into the golden eyes of the Vazdru Princess.  
"Not yet Sharra. I want him alive. Sometime the incarnate souls tickle my curiosity. And the one of this man is burned by a passion and a hate so intense that it shines in the dark. He calls me, he attires me. He must be mine."  
Azhrarn intertwined the deadly rose in the glossy anthracite hair of the Demon Prince, receiving an adoring look in return. Because all the Vazdru are in love with their Lord.  
"You know what to do, bring him to the threshold of madness, where I will pick him up."

The five Vazdru bowed to the will of Azhrarn, calling the black steeds with manes of midnight blue smoke.  
Because the sunset was close in the mortal world, and that was the moment when the Demon Princes can penetrate into the world of livings.

They appeared to Joe in his dreams, whispering mortal obsessions. During the day he began to have hallucinations and found himself shrinking away from sunlight.

Then, one night, in an exotic bar, a girl with alabaster skin and translucent hair read him the tarots, predicting that in the future he would have met his greatest love. The same girl later refused to spend the rest of the night with him. She was breathtaking beautiful, even though Joe sensed something repellent in her, and his offer had been made more to challenge himself than because he was attracted to her.

Finally one morning he awoke crying, he who laughed in the face of the Death, remembering of his dreams only the lusty kiss of a young man, lovely though disquietly beautiful as the cards-reader.  
On his pillow Joe found a rose, that he recognized as belonging to the villainous Devil Stars, but he could not remember where he had gotten it.

Interpreting it as a sign, Joe launched himself, as the bird of prey that gave him his nickname, on the den of the enemy, descending step after step, station after station, his stairway to death.  
On the edge of the precipice, Azhrarn himself stopped his hand, stabbing the feathered shuriken into the diabolical mechanism, jamming the device that would have destroyed the Earth.  
Because it is the amusement park of the Master of Demons who would die of boredom if humanity disappeared.

On the threshold of Uhlume's house, his Brother Death, Azhrarn picked the Condor up and brought him to Druhim Vanashta, the City of Demons.  
There he healed and loved him, with the absolute devotion that only Demons could give.

Lost in his lover's arms one night Joe woke up, his heart pierced by an inhumane cry.  
Azhraran caressed his hair, a touch that would have soothed a hurricane.  
"Sleep my love, nothing has happened. Only my Vazdru who go hunting."

The white figure with long, golden hair was almost invisible through the pale ears that grew along the banks of the River of Sleep. He ran and ran but, as the mouse of the fairy tale, he did not know he was already trapped.  
For it was not the soul of a sleepy mortal, but one already damned, that Azhrarn had given as a gift to the Demon Prince's.

The five Vazdru looked indifferently at the pale and pitiful figure, tall on their steeds, swords unsheathed, shimmering in the blue fire of their torches.  
"I feel pity for him, he thinks he is still dreaming" whispered one of the Princesses, twisting a stray lock of her black hair, studded with the tears of her lovers.  
"You should not Sekhmet, because he has received a gift too. Now he will remain with us for all eternity, instead of getting bored in the house of Lord Uhlume" reprimanded the redhead Demon Sharra.  
All the Vazdru smiled at the implicit irony.

"Have no fear Berg Katze, your time here won't be wasted. We know countless games and we have plenty of time for entertaining you" said in the eternal night of Druhim Vanasta the Demon Shadi, who now had a black rose in his hair.  
Then, smiling as always, he let the greyhounds free.

Lux  
Milano, April 21st, 2006


End file.
